Omen II: Abridged
by Mystical-Magical-Hormones
Summary: So basically, the Omen 2 was so hilarious my mum and I didn't actually know the proper plot so we made it up. I decided that my abridged plot is fucking hilarious and am sharing it with you. Rated for gratuitous swearing, swag, and the occasional inappropriate insinuation.
1. Chapter 1

Boobiehagen was dashing through the streets of some Arabic town. He seemed to be incredibly intoxicated. Occasionally, the mad man refrained from pulling –quite frankly- disturbing faces, just for the purpose of yelling "bitches out the way, the swag mobile is coming through, muthafukers".

He then met up with an archaeologist who looked sort of like Indiana Jones but there was something a little off so he only looked a teensy bit like Indiana Jones. Boobiehagen then sat down across the table from the Indiana Jones looking guy.

"MOTHERFUCKING ANTICHRIST! HOLY ARSEBURGERS!"

"Calm yo' titties," replied the archaeologist. "I'm a fucking archaeologist not a priest. Take your religious shit out of my face."

"No!"

"Okay," the Indiana-Jones-looking-guy relented.

"So basically we're going to go into this really dangerous ancient tomb thing so we can see some paintings a mentally ill man did on a slab of rock at the height of insanity. Apparently they're paintings of the antichrist and are his exact alikeness. Also we're not gonna bring anyone who could help if the tomb thing caved in."

"Seems legit."

The Indiana Jones looking guy finished his drink and then boarded the swag mobile with Boobiehagen. The archaeologist was perturbed by the lewd and obscene comments Boobiehagen yelled at the Arabic people who passed by them. Ultimately, he decided that the guy's name was Boobiehagen and it wasn't really that surprising.

The tomb thing was really shit but Boobiehagen still took a picture of it and put it on instagram along with a few selfies. The archaeologist was starting to regret this.

They entered the tomb thing and Boobiehagen became extremely animated and started talking about the whore of Babylon even though it was obvious a fucking painting of medusa. It was actually really weird because this was probably somewhere in Arabia, right? Why the fuck are there paintings of Medusa in Arabia? Isn't Medusa a gorgon from the religion of the ancient Greeks? Then again, an awful lot of modern Christianity takes an awful lot of influence from ancient religions.

"Hey look it's the antichrist," said Boobiehagen.

"OMG, this proves all the things I'm really sorry for ever doubting you!"

Whilst the tearful apology and acceptance of said apology took place a swagalicious crow sat down on the top of the tomb. He was wearing his fave snapback which said 'obey' on it and he was feeling pretty dope.

The little bitches in the tomb thing were gonna fuck up some of the shit Satan planned so the crow did a thing and then the tunnel caved in and Boobiehagen and the Archaeolist died. I guess. I don't know, man. I mean they probably did.


	2. Chapter 2

Seven years later, after the death of Boobiehagen and the Indiana-Jones-looking-guy, Damien was living with his sort of aunt (AN: It took me seven hours to remember how to spell that fuking shit, wtf?) and uncle. Damien was brooding because his military school uniform looked more swagilicious on his sort of cousin, Jamarcus. Jamarcus generally had a better wadrobe than Damien which was probably because Aunt Marion was a fucking bitch. Once she had gone so far as to give Damien's rhinestone jeans to Jamarcus. Aunt Marion really liked to snort cocaine and she knew that Jamarcus always kept a baggie of Colombian marching powder in his coat pocket. This was probably why she preferred the blond boy.

The morning was drawing on and the two boys were almost ready to leave for their first day of military school. However, Aunt Marion started snorting cocaine with crazy straws in the middle of the corridor. Aunt Blonde-Lady-With-Short-Hair sighed and backhanded the old crone.

"Pull your shit together."

"Fuck you, it's my body and I'll do what I want with it," Marion hollered. To quote Ringo Starr, there was a long silence.

Damien then decided he was four thousand per cent done and left, leaving Jamarcus alone with Aunt Marion.

"I don't think you should hang out with that boy anymore," said Aunt Marion.

"WTF. He's my cousin and we live in the same house, that's would be really fucking hard. Also he's my friend."

"So you're homosexuals?" Aunt Marion gasped.

"What the fuck?! We're related. This isn't Texas, it's Chicago," replied Jamarcus. His feathers were somewhat ruffled by the fact that "he's my friend" automatically translates to "we are boyfriends" but then again Aunt Marion had found Damien's tumblr the other day. It was mainly a swag blog but every now and then "fandom" stuff popped up. Aunt Marion was now really aware of today's lingo and she was so proud of her self that she bought a pack of crazy straws for hardcore cocaine snorting.

"I don't believe you but whatever. Also, I think he stole some of your Colombian marching powder, so yeah. Have fun at your shitty little military school."

"I'm actually going to trumpet school. That was why I was holding a trumpet a few minutes ago."

Aunt Marion then took the trumpet and threw it out the window which was really distressing for Jamarcus because he really liked that trumpet and had been eager to learn how to play 'Thrift Shop' on it. Jamarcus then left the house and got in the car with Damien. It was actually really awkward because he just realised he forgot his iPod and everyone knows car journeys suck when you can't listen to music whilst the scenery buzzes past your window.

"Why were you in there for so long?" asked Damien.

"Because Aunt Marion murdered my trumpet!"

"WTF?"

"And I never learned to play 'Thrift Shop' on it."

"Isn't it 1978 right now? Has that song even come out yet?"

"Of course it has, Macklemore is quite the lyrical genius. His music is so good that Doctor Who went back in time and gave everyone an iPod consisting of all of Macklemore's songs. And also 666 copies of 'Call Me Maybe'," said Jamarcus, rolling his eyes at his sort of cousin's stupidity.

"Oh yeah, that was a really weird day."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: SO I CANT REMEMBER THE EXACT ORDER OF EVENTS BUT I THINK THAT IT'S MILITARY SCHOOL, AUNT MARION'S DINNER PARTY, AUNT MARION'S DEATH, MILITARY SCHOOL, THORN INDUSTRIES

The car pulled up outside of the military school. Jamarcus cried in adoration of the school. Damien was really impressed with his black coat though. It was a really nice coat. Even though he thought that brown looked better on him than black. A few minutes later the school decided to kick off the new year with an impromptu cheer routine.

The cheer routine, unfortunately, involved trumpets which caused Jamarcus to break down in grief over the death of his beautiful trumpet. It was really embarrassing. Like when you go to the city centre with your friends and they tell you not swear so loudly (AN: REAL LIFE YO). Jamarcus then decided to get his head in the game and continued to do the cheer routine.

"Alright, so now it's time for your names."

Sergeant Neff (AN: I think this is his name but im not actually sure. this was the first sergeant 2 come up on IMDB. I paid very little attention to the names. I spent almost the entirety of the film making jokes.) stood in front of a kid with huge glasses. The glasses looked really ridiculous. There was silence. And even more silence. Then an extra dash of silence for the last bit of silence.

"What's your fucking name? JFC!"

"Oh! I thought you were going to give us names," replied Glasses McGee. "If you read the narration, you'll find my name."

"Yes but you're supposed to say you're name despite of the fact the bitch writing this just wrote your name."

"My name is Glasses McGee," he replied. Then the twat head who just called me a bitch walked around and asked more people their names. He then stopped in front of Jamarcus.

"My name is Jamarcus Thorn."

"The fuck name is Jamrcus, though?" replied Sergeant Neff. It was a fair point.

"I don't know. I don't even think it's a real name at the moment but we have all of Macklemore's music and 666 different copies of call me maybe so it's okay."

Sergeant Neff shrugged and then moved on to the next kid and then fell in love. Like when Cecil went to the town meeting and Carlos smiled and he fell in love instantly. Only in this instance it was a 13 year old boy and he was scowling quite pointedly.

"Um, excuse me, Sergeant, aren't you going to move on to me?" another voice said but Sergeant Neff ignored them so he could continue oggling Damien. Damien was starting to become extremely uncomfortable. The oggling went on for nearly five hours and everyone thought that the sergeant was just asserting his authority.

"That's a great name," sergeant Neff finally said before moving on. He hadn't actually learnt his name because he'd been to busy rewriting Twilight so that he and Damien were the main characters. However, this was a boarding school and so it wouldn't be that difficult to find out what his name actually was.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Thorn Manor, there was a dinner party and Aunt Marion kept trying to give everyone rohypnol. However, they were on to her and so they just didn't drink for the evening. Aunt Marion felt sad about the failure of her plan and started snorting cocaine in the middle of dinner which was really awkward.

"So, I don't like Damien and I'm going to give my share of the company to charity."

"What a lovely thing to do, Marion," smiled Ann.

"JUST KIDDING BITCH. I WILL SPEND IT ALL ON CRAZY STRAWS!"

"Marion, no," said Richard.

"Then I'll snort cocaine with said crazy straws."

"Marion, stop," cried Ann.

"You can't fuckign stop me im invincible."

Aunt Marion proceeded to swoop down from the table whilst yelling about the fact that she did 7 cocaines. The dinner party resumed in a harmonious conduct after the disturbance. Charles mentioned he had bought some slides from his latest excavation. Ann became extremely excited because she thought they were the kind of slides that you get in the park. She was extremely disappointed when they were just pictures of rock and sand.

At one point there was actually a woman and so Ann asked who the woman was.

"That's Joan Hart. She's a pimp. I mean journalist and archaeologist."


	4. Chapter 4

As the sun descended to a distant side of the Earth, the night sky blanketed itself over Thorn Manor. Aunt Marion began her nightly routine, firstly she retrieved some bath salts and added them to her bath. Afterwards she snorted the bath salts and ate one of the maids' faces. Aunt Marion then went to her bedroom to sleep. Little did she know that Swag Bro the Crow was waiting for her. Whilst Marion counted her drug money, Swag Bro the Crow replaced her nightly sugar cube with really hardcore LSD.

Marion didn't like hippies and had therefore, never tried LSD. This was her first trip and was most certainly her last. She started hallucinating some really freaky shit. The shit was so freaky that she had a heartattack and died (AN: That's about as likely as me taking a horror film seriously). Swag Bro the Crow fled the scene of the crime by flying away. What a sneaky bastard!

As Aunt Marion died, she could only faintly hear the cries of "Caw caw, mother fuckers."

When the sun pulled itself up from the distant country it had been shining over, Ann sauntered into Aunt Marion's so that she could wake the old bitch up. However, Aunt Marion was dead. It was really awkward because she had shit herself postmortem.

"Oh no! She's dead, that's so bad. I'm like so sad. It was probably all the drugs and... crazy straws," said Ann between a few early morning yawns.

* * *

Whilst sergeant Neff was scribbling "Damien Thorn + Sergeant ( AN: His first name is sergeant, gots a problem w/ dat?) Neff = Love 5ever" in his 'Hannah Montana' notebook (AN: Doctor Who also gave everyone Hannah Montana stationery, fo realz), there were things occurring in what I imagine is the common room.

"ZOMG, the guy in dis pic is totes gay," said a person

"That's my dad," said Damien.

"Didn't he try to kill you in the first film?"

"...No."

"I'm pretty sure-"

"NO SUCH EVENT TRANSPIRED!"

And with that, Damien sauntered out.

"You're cousin is a douchebag," said a person.

"I know but I'm going to beat you up for saying that, despite the fact it's true," screamed Jamarcus! He then started delicately hitting a person with a marzipan spoon. Within 0.0002 seconds Jamarcus had been pinned to the floor by a person and was getting his 12 year old arse handed to him. It was almost as awkward as Miley Cyrus' recent performance at the MTV awards. Then Damien came back because he realised he had left his marzipan spoon in the common room.

"What are you doing? he asked.

"I'm beating up your cousin!"

"No, what are you doing to my MARZIPAN SPOON!"

"What?"

"You squashed it, you piece of shit! Now I'm going to intensely stare at you!"

"It's on! I am the best at it intensely staring," a person yelled as he threw his military jacket off to prepare himself for the intense staring session. However after a few minutes, a person threw himself against the wall whilst simultaneously shitting his pants.

"How did you make him do that?" Asked Jamarcus as he attempted to reattach his arm to his torso.

"I don't know, it's probably nothing weird, though."

"Oh and thanks for defending my honour," Jamarcus added.

"Uh yeah, that what I was doing, for sure."

Sergeant Neff then stormed into the room and everyone quickly gathered into an organized formation. He hadn't remembered why he had come in but he noticed his crush was there so he decided to act like there was a legitimate reason.

"There are surprise overly padded rugby... I mean football tryouts."

He then noticed a person on the floor.

"The fuck are you doing? Get your ass up," he commanded, though he instantly regretted it when he realised that a person had shit himself.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: So I rewatched the film and I know a bunch of shit isn't in order so ill try 2 fix it mayb the way im writing this not is deterior8ing in 2 bs sooo dont hold me 2 dat. Also I found that Sergeant Neff's first name is danyul but i fink sergeant is a better first name anywais

Richard thorn's car pulled up outside 'The Thorn Blog' building, the most populour blog on Tumblr. And with all the staff manning it, there was no surprise the blog was so popular. They received hundreds of asks, submissions, and fanmail hourly. Since Bill had left his post, or died (it was hard to tell), a replace called Paul Buher had stepped in.

Apparently Paul had a habit of being a cunt and ignoring asks because he didn't want to fuck with the post limit. He was almost as much of a dick as fucking JOHN FROM FUCKING ACCOUNTING WHAT A PIECE SHIT HE IS.

Paul, a guy with an impressive moustache, another mustached guy, and Richard drove a mini swagmobile around the marijuana plant. In order to make better quality posts, Paul had decided that the bloggers should start smoking cannabis. The impressively mustached guy took a sprig of the cannabis to see how good it was. If he were to rate it on a level of 1-10 it would be a firm 5 and a half.

"Is it growing cannabis illegal?" asked Richard.

"Yes but it's the 70's so it's totally fine!"

"Sir dere is a fon cal fo yo," someone called to Richard. It may have been an intern called Brett, they were unsure.

"I'm fucking busy rn!"

"But it's important!"

Richard relented and decided to answer the phone. Paul took some of the weed so he could smoke it later. Richard returned with a grave look on his face.

"Marion just died of a drug overdose, or a crazy straw overdose."

"Well, all this cannabis here is totally insensitive so we should just burn it!"

"Wouldn't that just make everyone high?" asked the man with the impressive moustache.

"What? No, defo not! That would not even happen, like ever! Come on guys that's just plain silly," Paul laughed, hoping they would take the bait.

* * *

Meanwhile...

Sergeant Neff sat at his desk and he was really happy to finally be alone with the object of his affections.

"Is there any point to this? You've been staring at me for five hours," Damien said.

Sergeant Neff turned around, taking a deep breath.

"Yes, there's a point to this."

"Which is?"

"I lo- I loudly think you should be the school quarterback."

"I didn't try out!"

"We're both orphans!"

"WTF?"

"We have something in common."

"Okay..."

"So... uh... yeah, do you want to be quarterback?"

"Not really."

"Well you're going to be and you're going to be amazing at it."

"...Okay. Can I leave now?"

Sergeant Neff nodded. He then cried a bit. How could he fail so dramatically? No matter there was always next time. But for now he would reconcile with 666 copies of call me maybe and 'Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream'.

* * *

Also FUCKING MEANWHILE...

"Holy shit we're in a museum," said Ann. Charles nodded. He was the curator of the Thorn Museum which was dedicated to all the best Tumblr posts The Thorn Blog had ever posted. They had set aside some room for a new exhibition about Charles' recent excavation in Arabia. It was going to be about some cray-cray religious shizniz. Ann didn't approve but decided not to say anything.

She knew that if the Thorn Blog got too religious then they would lose followers and then they would lose money.

"Oh yeah, here's that photo of a ten headed dragon that you hated!"

"Eugh!"

"Hi bitches, I am not a pimp," a strange English voice called. It was a big floating red coat. Ann rolled her eyes, large red coats could be so rude sometimes.

"OMG! big bird why did you die yourself red?" Chares cried.

"I'm not big bird you fucking idiot, I'm Joan Hart!"

"Oh," said Ann and Charles in unison. That made a lot more sense.

"Yeah and I've got a cracking tale to tell. I swaggered up to Richard Thorn and at first he wouldn't let me in his car because he didn't want people to think he was talking to a pimp. Then he let me in and I told him his nephew is all fucked up and evil and he kicked me out. What a douchebag!"

"Joan, that was only something John from accounting would do," cried Ann ANN-grily (AN: PFFT).

"Yeah, you can't say things if you don't know for sure."

"I do kno-" Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror Joan realised she had to change her clothes. Her coat was truly awful! She stormed out of the museum and straight to her car.

AN: short chapter i kno but im like recovering from sickness atm and i got shit to do such as fake diary pages for my session w/ my psyhcologist


End file.
